


Build Me Up Buttercup

by firbolg_boyfriends



Series: Ring Me Up [1]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Dimension 20: Fantasy High
Genre: (murph voice) fabian's a loser!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Sexual References, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Phone Calls, dorks crushing on each other, teen movie vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22246024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firbolg_boyfriends/pseuds/firbolg_boyfriends
Summary: To be honest, Riz wasn’t even really sure why Fabian kept calling him. Fabian had only been gone on his pirate ship a week the first time he rang Riz to monologue about the past days’ exploits, likely assuming that Riz would listen raptly (he wasn’t wrong). And then it just kept happening, even after he returned to Solace.Hearing Fabian’s voice – even through the tinny crystal speaker – filled his insides with a buttery warmth he couldn’t explain. He’d never said as much to Fabian, but he could guess that Fabian enjoyed their conversations to a similar degree, because the frequency of his calls had rapidly accelerated to an average of once or twice a day. Was this what it was like to have a best friend? Riz loved it. His connection to Fabian felt like something tangible that he carried around with him even when Fabian himself wasn’t there, like a glowing heart-shaped badge in his pocket. “Also, I think maybe we’re just best friends –”(This immediately caused a chorus of shouting as Kristen, Adaine, and Fig all insisted that they were Riz’s best friend.)
Relationships: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Series: Ring Me Up [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609975
Comments: 49
Kudos: 460





	Build Me Up Buttercup

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the classic jam by The Foundations - if you haven't heard of it, give it a listen! I feel like it sets the mood for this fic :)
> 
> This is entirely inspired by [S2 SPOILER ALERT] Fabian being like "The Ball didn't pick up my call immediately, clearly something is very wrong" at the beginning of Mirror Madness, implying that Fabian must call him relatively frequently. Also, as of writing this, season 2 is not over yet and I have no idea how it's going to end or whether it's going to leave all the Bad Kids in drastically different life situations than the ones they were in at the end of Prompocalypse, so just assume this takes place in a universe where they all had a chill spring break!

It was late September of junior year at Aguefort Adventuring Academy, and school was in full swing but the hazy, golden-hot days of an overripe summer hadn’t quite given way to fall. The leafy maples outside the campus buildings were only just beginning to fade from warm green to crisp yellow, and the afternoons still shimmered with heat under cloudless blue skies. Dusty beams of sunlight shone into the corridors at a slanted angle as Riz and his three closest female friends stood at their lockers, exchanging their books before their next class.

Literally exchanging. “Do you think it’s bad that we only have one math book between us?” Riz asked. Their textbook-sharing ring had felt like a genius idea at the beginning of the year but it had only taken a month for the logistics to begin to unravel.

“I honestly don’t even think we need the one. Like, do any of us even need to know math, anyway?” Fig countered as she fixed her smudged eyeliner in the reflection on her crystal. “We’re, like, adventurers. I feel like we already have all the important skills that we need for life.”

“I feel like math is important for –” Adaine began, before Kristen interjected.

“I don’t know, Riz, do you think it’s bad that you call Fabian almost every day and you’ve only called me, like, once in the last month?”

Riz looked at her in surprise. How did she know he and Fabian had been talking on the phone a lot lately? He generally figured he was the member of the group who was best at deducing things. Or, realistically, able to deduce things. Although that wasn’t really fair to Adaine, he thought; last May she’d figured out that Kristen and Tracker were storing sex toys in their lockers to keep them hidden from Sandra-Lynn, which had led to her refusing to speak to Kristen until she stopped putting her off-brand vibrator in the same space as their shared textbooks – an epic standoff Riz had lovingly dubbed The Dildo Debacle.

“I’m talking to you right now! We see each other every day! And how did you find out about that, anyway?”

“Riz calls Fabian every day?” Fig chimed in, looking up from her crystal with interest.

“Okay, technically, he’s always the one who calls me -”

“What difference does that make?” Adaine asked skeptically, folding up her jacket to place it in her locker.

“It makes him seem less desperate,” Kristen explained, blowing a flyaway hair out of her face. Since becoming an out lesbian she’d been trying a variety of so-called gay hairstyles, and she was currently growing out her summer bowl-cut phase.

“But he’s still clearly pretty desperate. You see Fabian every day, too! What else do you have to say to him that you don’t have time for at school? And why don’t you call me more, because I feel like we have a lot more to talk about, like for example yesterday I was clipping my toenails and I noticed that I have, like, one brown hair growing on my big toe, which is so weird because I’m a redhead –”

“Please stop talking about your toes!” Adaine groaned.

Kristen leaned towards Riz, whispering conspiratorially. “This is exactly why I think we should talk on the phone outside of school.”

“Wait, I’m not past the Riz-calling-Fabian thing yet –” Fig said, waving her ring-laden hand in front of Kristen’s face to get her to stop talking. Kristen opened her mouth, affronted.

“The Fabian-calling-Riz thing,” Riz muttered, and Adaine flashed him a side-eye.

“Like how did this start?” Fig asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna know, too!” Kristen added.

Riz shrugged and thought about it. “I don’t know, like, he was gone on that pirate ship study abroad thing over the summer and he called me a couple of times to stay in touch, and then I guess it sort of became a routine, and he kept calling me even after he got back to Solace?”

To be honest, Riz wasn’t even really sure why Fabian kept calling him. Fabian had only been gone a week the first time he rang Riz to monologue about the past days’ exploits, likely assuming that Riz would listen raptly (he wasn’t wrong). And then it just kept happening. Sometimes he called him to regale him with more anecdotes he considered praiseworthy, which ranged from fighting off monsters to successfully figuring out how to do laundry on mystical foreign isles. Sometimes he called very briefly to ask Riz questions about seemingly unconnected non sequiturs (he didn’t seem to understand that he could just search things on Crystal-Google). Sometimes he called to vent about his crewmates or gush about his latest meal or to talk about ‘all the hanging out we’re going to do when I get back, The Ball’. Sometimes he just wanted to shoot the shit. Riz enjoyed every second of it. He’d given Fabian’s contact a specific ringtone so that as soon as he heard it he could pick up on the first ring.

Hearing Fabian’s voice – even through the tinny crystal speaker – filled his insides with a buttery warmth he couldn’t explain. He’d never said as much to Fabian, but he could guess that Fabian enjoyed their conversations to a similar degree, because the frequency of his calls had rapidly accelerated to an average of once or twice a day. Was this what it was like to have a best friend? Riz loved it. His connection to Fabian felt like something tangible that he carried around with him even when Fabian himself wasn’t there, like a glowing heart-shaped badge in his pocket. “Also, I think maybe we’re just best friends –”

This immediately caused a chorus of shouting as all three girls insisted that they were Riz’s best friend. Several passing students gave them odd looks. Riz laughed. He knew they were mostly joking around, but he really hadn’t been trying to insinuate that he didn’t care about them as much. Seeing their three visages – blond, ginger, brunette-dyed-darker-brunette in descending height order – filled him with a sense of comfort and safety every time he walked down this corridor after second-period survival class. Besides, they were among the five people he trusted most in the world, next to his mom of course. But with Fabian it was just… different, somehow. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words, but it had something to do with the way seeing Gorgug or Fig or Kristen or Adaine’s name on his crystal screen slowed his heartrate to a calmer pace and seeing Fabian’s name kicked it into a fast-paced drum tattoo.

“I don’t think they’re best friends, I think they’re boning!” Fig said, grinning as if she’d just uncovered a conspiracy. Riz wondered whether it was a coincidence that anytime he thought seriously about how much his friends mattered to him, the moment was almost always immediately followed up with at least one of them saying something stupid.

“Boning? Are you twelve?” Adaine scoffed.

“I mean, you can bone your best friend. Not that that’s what’s happening!” Riz finished hurriedly as all three of his friends turned to him in delight (Kristen and Fig) and horror (Adaine). “I don’t know why he calls me, okay? Maybe –” he paused to primly smooth down his vest, “I am just an interesting person to talk to.”

“If that were the reason, he would’ve called me. I’m the most interesting,” Fig replied.

“I think we’re all interesting,” Adaine said diplomatically, pointedly glaring at Fig, who wasn’t paying attention.

“I think Riz and Fabian have a thing going on,” Kristen said, smirking.

“I think you’re right.” Fig smirked back. “What do you think it’s like when they flirt? Do you think Riz is like, ‘I’m solving clues to unlock the mystery of your heart –’”

“That would be a dumb thing to say,” Riz interjected flatly.

“Oh my god, he totally is,” Kristen continued, nudging Fig. “And then Fabian is like, ‘I would sail across the seven seas to pillage your booty –’”

They both collapsed into uncontrollable giggling. The Crystal-Polaroid of Tracker that Kristen had stuck to her locker door fluttered to the floor, and Adaine knelt to pick it up, exchanging a commiserating look with Riz. “Don’t mind them, they’re just jealous that you don’t call them as much,” she said. Then, after a pause, “Speaking of which, why don’t you ever call me?”

Riz sighed. “I swear, I don’t call him, he’s the one who calls me!”

Adaine’s horn-rimmed glasses and hair barrettes glinted in the sunlight. She tilted her head and half-smiled like she thought he was lying, which was very unfair because he was telling the truth. “I’m not lying!” he insisted.

“Yeah you are! You’re lying at home waiting for Fabian to come pillage your booty!” Fig said, casting thaumaturgy to create an airhorn noise. Kristen gave her a resounding high five.

Riz glanced at his watch. He was definitely going to be late to his next class. “Okay, will you all stop teasing me if I promise to call you more?”

The three of them exchanged glances. “Yes,” they said in unison.

“Okay, problem solved. And I swear! Me and Fabian do not have a ‘thing’ going on!”

The three of them exchanged more glances, this time with much smirkier facial expressions. “Okay,” they all said, with significantly less truthfulness in their tone.

At that point, the bell rang and they all headed in different directions. Riz sighed heavily (but also a little fondly).

He knew they’d just been teasing him for fun, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what they said. What if there was something unusual about his dynamic with Fabian, besides the fact that they were best friends? Maybe the key was just to get Fabian to acknowledge their bestfriendship? Riz needed to get to the bottom of this.

&

“And so that was how I finally defeated the ooze. But little did I know, there was another ooze lying in wait just around the corner… The Ball, what’s wrong with you? You’re not being as responsive as usual to my rich storytelling.” Fabian frowned as he reclined against the veritable treasure trove of throw cushions on his emperor-sized bed.

The afternoon was otherwise very normal; he’d gone through his ordinary routine of school, then practice in the bloodrush field with Gorgug and Ragh and Coach Gorthalax and the rest of the team, then riding home to his mansion on the Hangman, greeting his mother and (to his unending distaste) Gilear, then bounding upstairs, stripping to his tank top and boxers, doing a few push-ups and crunches, and finally flopping onto his bed to eat snacks and call The Ball. It was a great way to unwind, but today the vibe was noticeably different – The Ball wasn’t expressing interest and prompting Fabian to continue as often as he typically did, which was especially weird because Fabian had been specifically waiting for weeks to share the ooze story because of how thrilling it was. He’d been sure The Ball would like this one.

Was The Ball annoyed that he was eating popcorn while talking on the phone? That couldn’t be it – he hadn’t ever had a problem with Fabian eating chips, and chips were much noisier than popcorn.

The Ball didn’t say anything for a long moment. Fabian wondered if their crystal connection had shorted out until he heard, “Nothing” through the speaker.

Fabian groaned and lolled his head back onto the pillows. “Ugh, don’t be like that, The Ball, I can totally tell something’s up with you. Just tell me what it is. Tell me what it is! Tell me what’s wrong! Ugh.”

The speaker crackled as The Ball sighed. “It’s just… the girls got in my head.”

Fabian frowned deeper and munched on a piece of popcorn. “The girls? What the hell are you talking about?”

“They said it was weird that we talk on the phone so much. And, I dunno… I mean, do you think it’s weird?”

Fabian popped another piece of popcorn in his mouth and chewed pensively. He picked a piece of lint off his bedspread. “Wait, how did they know? Did you tell them?”

“No, I didn’t, did you?”

“Of course not. You know I’m a very private person, The Ball.”

“Sure,” The Ball replied, sounding doubtful.

“I mean, why do they think it’s weird?” Fabian asked.

“Uh… I guess just because we talk to each other on the phone more than we talk to anyone else on the phone. Or, I do, at least. Like, I don’t get nearly as many calls from the rest of the group.”

Fabian hummed in acknowledgment, feeling his chest warm with an unexpected sense of pride. It felt nice to be The Ball’s number one friend.

“Uh, so…” The Ball continued. “Do you… I mean, do you also? Like, call very many other people?”

Fabian cleared his throat and shifted his position, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. This line of conversation was veering dangerously close to a question he’d been actively avoiding thinking about, which was: why did he enjoy talking to The Ball so much? There were lots of superficial reasons – force of habit, The Ball reliably picked up on the first ring every time, no one else was quite as patient with his rambling. But he sensed there were other, bigger reasons, like massive dark rocks faintly visible below the surface of a smooth azure sea, and he wasn’t particularly excited about the prospect of navigating those uncharted waters.

The thing was that he didn’t know what he’d find there. Or rather, part of him was afraid that he did, in fact, know exactly what he’d find there, and he just wasn’t ready to find it yet.

“Yes,” Fabian lied, scrunching his face up in shame and awkwardness. “I call, uh. Lots of people. All the time.”

“…Oh,” The Ball said, after another long moment. “That’s, uh… That’s cool.”

“…Yeah.” Fabian stared up at his domed ceiling, desperately willing his brain to come up with another topic towards which he could direct the conversation, but he kept drawing blank after blank. He scrunched his face up further.

He heard The Ball clear his throat. “Well, anyway. Forget all about what I said, I think the girls were just messing with me. Ah, so. What happened with the other ooze?”

Fabian used his free arm to hug a pillow against his chest, still feeling vaguely… icky. But his adventurous exploits? Now, that he could talk about. “Yes, so, we rounded the corner and there it was –”

&

The weirdness didn’t return for the rest of the week, for which Fabian was profoundly grateful. He was very much not interested in explaining his internal thought processes to The Ball, especially because he was only marginally capable of making sense of them himself.

Even though The Ball had refrained from asking him any more uncomfortable questions, Fabian hadn’t been able to quite get the topic off his mind since The Ball had originally brought it up. He felt a bizarre sense of urgency to sort out his feelings about The Ball, and as a result he’d been expending extra mental energy to run faster and harder away from the issue, and overall he’d been suffering from heightened stress and exhaustion during the past several days, which was why today he felt the need to call The Ball right after practice instead of waiting until he got home. Hearing The Ball’s voice always relaxed him, for reasons that he preferred not to analyze too deeply.

As he walked out of the locker room, blinking in the warm daylight, he automatically slid his crystal out of the pocket of his letterman jacket and began to scroll through his contacts. But before he could press ‘Call’ –

“Yo, Fabes! Who you callin’, bro?” Ragh asked, practically yelling into Fabian’s ear as his body weight slammed into Fabian’s shoulder (Fabian was proud to admit that he buckled under the pressure only slightly).

Gorgug jogged to catch up with them, pulling on his own letterman jacket. He’d started wearing one ever since their team had won the kingdom-wide tournament last year and Fabian was still getting over his annoyance at the theft of his Look. “I think he’s calling his boyfriend,” Gorgug said placidly.

Fabian sputtered in confusion as Ragh’s eyes widened. “Fabian, you have a boyfriend? That’s so dope, dude. I wish I had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” Fabian finally choked out. “Wait – everybody stop. I need to figure this out.” He motioned for them both to stop walking, and the three of them stood there on the sidewalk in the hot late-afternoon sun, the two tall half-orcs gazing patiently as they waited for Fabian to continue speaking.

“I have so many questions. So many questions. About how you came to this conclusion. But first – who the hell do you think my boyfriend is?” Fabian asked Gorgug incredulously.

Gorgug just stared at him, face blank and uncomprehending. “I thought it was Riz. Is it not Riz?”

“It’s not – it’s not anyone! I’m not dating anyone!”

Ragh crowed. “Bro, you’re dating Riz? Dude, Riz is cute as hell. Nice pull.”

Fabian looked at him witheringly. “Did you not hear what I literally just said?”

“Riz isn’t just cute, he’s handsome,” Gorgug informed Ragh.

Fabian wondered if he was having a stroke. “Guys! I’m not dating The Ball!”

They both returned to staring at him, now looking more confused than ever. “Well… who are you dating, then?” Gorgug asked, perplexed.

“Do you not think Riz is attractive?” Ragh asked, even more perplexed.

Fabian made the judgment call that his life would be simpler if he ignored the second question. “I’m not dating anyone at all. Why would you think I’m dating someone?”

Gorgug bit his lip thoughtfully. “Uh… because you’re always talking about how you’re going to make a call when you get home? I make a call every day. Or, I get a call every day. And it’s from Zelda. Who’s my girlfriend. And you talk about Riz a lot, so I just figured it was him.”

“I do not talk about The Ball that much!” Fabian retorted hotly.

They both looked dubious. “Uh, you kinda do, dude,” Ragh said.

Gorgug nodded. “I know more about Riz from talking to you than I do from talking to Riz.”

“I – there’s no way that’s true!” Fabian sputtered, feeling himself crumple under the weight of the realization that other people were much more aware of his life and who he was as a person than he’d ever imagined, and it was possible that none of the things he’d considered private about himself were as private as he’d thought.

Gorgug shrugged. “Okay.” Then he went back to looking confused. “Wait, so… Riz isn’t your boyfriend. But you do call him all the time. So… is your boyfriend, like, mad that you talk to Riz so much? I mean, if Zelda called someone besides me every day, I would be kinda jealous, I think.”

Fabian groaned, bending forward to stare intently at the pavement, hoping answers would appear there.

Before he could say anything, Ragh interjected. “Dude, if Riz isn’t your boyfriend, is it cool if I, like, ask him out?”

“No!” Fabian heard himself exclaim on impulse before he even had time to think of a considered response. “I mean, like – yeah, I guess. If you, uh. Want.” Internally, he was aware that he was definitely, absolutely not ‘cool’ with the idea of Ragh asking The Ball out, but he didn’t want to say that because he knew Ragh would ask why, and Fabian had no good answer to that.

Gorthalax lumbered up to them, seemingly from out of nowhere, still dressed in his coach T-shirt and cap. He slapped Gorgug on the back and ruffled Fabian’s hair. Irritated, Fabian hurried to fix it. His hair was tousled, but it was artfully, deliberately tousled in an extremely specific way, and if anyone tousled it in any other way he had to re-tousle it immediately to maintain his style.

“Hey, boys!” Gorthalax rumbled. “What’re we talkin’ about over here?”

“We’re talkin’ about Fabian’s boyfriend,” Ragh answered casually. To an outside observer it might seem that Fabian was being teased, but Fabian knew his teammates well enough to understand that they were truly, genuinely too obtuse to follow the thread of what he’d been trying to explain to them for the past several minutes.

Gorthalax gasped and turned a warm, paternal smile onto Fabian. “Fabian, you have a boyfriend? That’s so exciting! Who’s the lucky fella?”

“It’s Riz,” Gorgug replied.

Ragh turned to him in confusion. “Wait… I thought it wasn’t Riz.”

Gorgug frowned. “Oh yeah… who was it, then?”

The three of them turned to Fabian expectantly. Fabian groaned. “Guys… for the last time. I. Do. Not. Have. A. Boy. Friend.”

“Really? Who do you call every day, then?” Gorgug asked.

“So you’re cool if I ask Riz out?” Ragh piped up.

“Do you not have a crush on Riz?” Gorthalax asked. He turned to Gorgug, the flaming pentacle on his forehead furrowed in thought. “He has a crush on Riz, doesn’t he?”

“I do not! Have a crush! On The Ball!” Fabian yelled, feeling like he’d been trapped in some kind of personal hell.

“So you’re cool if I ask him out, then,” Ragh said, looking pleased.

“Who’s the person you talk to on the phone every day, then?” Gorthalax asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m wondering,” Gorgug added.

Fabian gazed longingly across the parking lot at the Hangman, wondering how fast he could reach it if he just started sprinting right now.

&

Fabian and Riz were at Basrar’s doing homework together, the way they usually were on Tuesday afternoons. Riz had started inviting Fabian to join him during sophomore year because they’d both been in the same history class, in which Riz had spent a lot of time admiring the back of Fabian’s head. Now, though, they didn’t share any classes and the tradition had continued unquestioned by either of them, and Riz was starting to wonder if there was a reason for that. They could very easily invite Gorgug or any of the girls to join them, after all. But Riz hadn’t brought up the idea, and neither had Fabian.

Riz set his quill down on the formica tabletop, staring pensively at his best friend, who was currently deeply involved in what looked like a worksheet for animal handling class. Fabian’s platinum hair sparkled diamond-white in the golden evening light. The pastel-blue interior of the diner complemented the warm, coppery tone of his complexion and his bare, muscular arms. His left bicep twitched as he absently tapped his free hand to the beat of a classic pop song distantly playing from the jukebox.

Fabian was very handsome, Riz thought. He’d had this thought before, numerous times, but he’d never allowed himself to give it much consideration. He was considering it now, though. Fabian’s jaw was very pleasant to look at, especially because lately some silvery-white stubble had been appearing there which almost looked like glitter when light shone on it. Fabian’s chest muscles were, additionally, very nice, which Riz figured Fabian was aware of, since he always liked to wear those tight, low-cut tank tops. The tank tops showed off his broad, toned shoulders exceedingly well. Riz wondered vaguely what it would be like to hold onto those shoulders. (In a non ‘we’re helping each other during combat’ context.)

Fabian arched an immaculately sculpted eyebrow as he glanced up at Riz. “What’s up with you, The Ball? Are you staring at me? …Oh, god, is my hair messed up?” Fabian immediately pulled out his crystal and frantically examined his reflection on the screen, frowning handsomely as he tilted his head this way and that like an emotionally distressed fashion model.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong with your hair. I wasn’t staring at you for any good reason. Just… thinking.”

Fabian fixed Riz with a slightly panicked expression. “Uh, what does that mean? What are you thinking about?”

Riz shrugged. “Just thinking about… clues.” It wasn’t technically a lie. He was in the process of trying to solve the mystery of what was going on with him and Fabian. It annoyed him mildly that Fig hadn’t been totally off with that dumb pick-up line she’d come up with to make fun of him.

Fabian seemed satisfied with that answer. He peered at Riz’s empty ice cream tureen. “Do you want more ice cream, The Ball? Let me get you more ice cream.” He started to get up from the table without waiting for affirmation, but Riz flapped his arms to stop him, laughing.

“No, Fabian, I’m fine! I’m full. My stomach is smaller than yours. Sit down!” he laughed.

Fabian looked dubious, but sat back down. “Okay, but let me know when you want more ice cream and I’ll get it.”

“Okay, Fabian, I’ll let you know.” Riz cupped his chin in one hand, smiling fondly at his best friend. Fabian was so sweet. Riz was so lucky to have him around. Sometimes he wished he could just hang out with Fabian all the time – that instead of talking on the phone every day, they spent time together in person every day, for even longer than the usual hour or two. Although then again, there was something really intrinsically enjoyable about the phone calls – Riz loved leaning back in his office chair and gazing at the crack in the ceiling, listening to Fabian’s velvety voice and wondering what he was up to on the other end of the line.

Fabian blinked rapidly. “What are you doing? Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it. Stop looking at me.”

Riz immediately flicked his eyes to the cornflower-blue vinyl seat to Fabian’s left.

Fabian sighed. “No, wait, look at me!”

Riz looked at him.

“Ugh, stop looking at me!”

Riz looked away.

“No, ugh, why aren’t you looking at me?”

Riz spread his hands. “Because you told me not to?”

Fabian huffed. “No, I meant like, look at me, but don’t look at me like… that.”

Riz laughed fondly. “What are you even talking about?”

Fabian pointed at him. “Like that! Don’t look at me like that!”

Riz was very confused. “Do you want me to stop… smiling at you? Like, ever?” He arranged his face into a grave expression.

Fabian ran his hands through his hair, inadvertently messing it up. Riz tried very hard not to smile at that. “No, don’t stop smiling, you have a nice smile. I mean – that’s not what I was going to say.”

Fabian looked mildly distressed, but Riz felt his heart melting nonetheless. “You think I have a nice smile?” Riz asked, feeling a beam cross his face like the morning sun. Which – Fabian had just told him not to smile. But also that he liked his smile. This conversation was rapidly swerving in a lot of directions and Riz understood none of them.

Fabian huffed in frustration. “Okay, fine, yes. You have a nice smile, okay, The Ball? Now, stop distracting me! I have a lot of very important homework to do!” He hunched over his worksheet, resolutely not meeting Riz’s eyes.

He was definitely acting weird, but Riz chalked it up to one of the typical Fabian Mood Swings. Sometimes Fabian got in a funk where he was extra grumpy or fidgety or melancholy or otherwise touchy, and Riz just let it ride out until it inevitably passed within a few days. No matter what, he was always the same Fabian. The same strong, smart, wonderful Fabian, who constantly inspired Riz. His best friend, his partner in crime, his hero, his favorite person to have at his side in fights or at family dinners or at the Elmville Mall. The boy he – oh god.

He loved Fabian, didn’t he? Like, totally, completely loved him. Oh god.

&

Fabian stared at himself in the crystalline mirror in his ensuite bathroom. He was brushing his teeth, washed in the red-gold light of the setting sun through the window, as he listened to The Ball talk over the phone. He was literally foaming at the mouth with toothpaste, but he also felt like he was figuratively foaming at the mouth with rage.

“Can you believe that?” The Ball asked, sounding shocked and also a little excited.

Fabian’s heart pounded faster. He tried to say something in response but his mouth was still full of toothpaste so it came out as mumbled gibberish.

“What? I can’t understand you,” said The Ball.

Fabian took a moment to spit into the sink, then swallowed a gulp from his glass of water. “I said, can you tell me again? I didn’t really hear it the first time,” he lied.

“Oh, sure. Uh, Ragh asked me out!”

Fabian sat down heavily on top of the marble toilet seat. He felt like he was going to scream, and he couldn’t figure out why. All he knew was that if he tried to say something, all that would come out was a cry of raw consternation, and he was certain The Ball wouldn’t enjoy listening to that, especially over the phone. He could just imagine The Ball holding his crystal away from himself, his face scrunching up in that way it did when he saw something he found unpleasant, the way his nose wrinkled adorably – wait, ‘adorably’? What was he thinking? He really needed to get it together. This was bad, even for him.

“Fabian? Are you still there?” The Ball asked, after what had presumably been an inappropriately long silence.

“I – uh – yeah. Um – what did you say? To Ragh? After that?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think of saying. He couldn’t decide whether or not he actually wanted to know the answer.

“I told him I’d think about it. But I’m probably going to say no.”

Fabian felt like he needed to lie on the floor. There were so many different emotions roiling inside him that he was pretty sure he was actually becoming seasick. “Hold on a moment, I’m lying on the floor.”

“Uh… why?”

The cool marble on his bare back instantly calmed him down. He picked up his crystal from where he’d laid it beside him on the bathmat and held it to his ear again. “It just feels good on my skin.” Fabian desperately hoped that wasn’t a weird thing to say. Or at least, not as weird as ‘I need to lie down because I’m physically overwhelmed by my emotional response to what is happening right now and I don’t even think I can make it over to my bed’.

“Oh… Are you, like… not wearing a shirt?”

The Ball’s voice sounded odd. Fabian frowned, momentarily distracted. “No, I don’t usually wear one to bed, The Ball. Why?”

“No reason,” The Ball said quickly. “Yeah, so anyway. I think I’m gonna say no to Ragh.”

“Why? Ragh’s great, he’s tall, he’s hot, lots of muscles, he plays bloodrush, which is the best sport, objectively –”

“Are you into Ragh?” The Ball interrupted.

“No, why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you just described him in a really complimentary way.”

“Yeah, those are all great traits that he has, just factually.” And they were also traits that Fabian had. Fabian wondered if The Ball realized that. Maybe he should remind him. It felt pertinent.

“Why – is that, like, your type? Tall guys that play bloodrush?” The Ball sounded odd again, but in a different way this time.

“What? No, I also like – short guys. I mean. Whatever.” Fabian sat up, feeling frustrated. This conversation had really gotten away from him in a manner that was extraordinarily vexing. “Anyway, that is so not the point of what we were talking about. Why are you going to say no to Ragh?”

“Wait, hold on, can we circle back to that thing about you liking short guys –”

“No, The Ball, focus up!” Fabian stood and began pacing angrily around the darkening bathroom. “What’s going on with you and Ragh?”

The Ball sighed. “Yeah, I’m gonna say no to him. Because, uh. I like someone else.”

Fabian felt the floor disappear beneath his feet. Not literally. He was still alone in his bathroom, wearing Aguefort Owlbears boxer briefs and fuzzy socks that kept his feet warm when he walked around the cold marble floors of the mansion. The sun had set but it was still light enough to dimly see around him – he didn’t quite need to light the candles yet. But emotionally it was completely dark, and he was in freefall.

“…What?” he finally choked out.

“I said, there’s somebody else I like. So I probably shouldn’t go out with Ragh, because… I would rather go out with. Uh. The guy I like.”

“So it’s a guy?” Fabian asked, feeling himself spiral. Spiralling in freefall. “Who is it? The Ball. Why haven’t you told me who it is before? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this. Tell me who it is right now, The Ball. The Ball, who is the guy you like? Tell me right now.” Fabian paced around the room frantically, running his free hand through his hair, not even caring that it was getting all messed up.

“I’m trying to tell you, if you would just listen –”

“I am listening! Is he on the bloodrush team?”

“…Yes.”

Fabian felt his heart drop. “Oh my god, is it Gorgug? The Ball, you know he has a girlfriend, right? He and Zelda have been together for, like, over a year.” Also, if The Ball had a crush on Gorgug, Fabian thought he might truly, actually move to Fallinel.

“No, Fabian – it’s not Gorgug, oh my god. Are you, like, freaking out right now? What’s up with you?” The Ball sounded concerned.

“I’m not freaking out! You’re freaking out!”

The Ball paused. “I mean… to me it really seems like you’re the one who’s freaking out…”

“I’m not freaking out, okay The Ball? God, you’re so… Why are you always…” he trailed off into a groan. He felt like he was on a train that was very slowly crashing and burning all around him, before his very eyes.

“You’re being kind of weird right now.”

Oh god, The Ball sounded unhappy, and it was almost certainly Fabian’s fault, and that made Fabian in turn very unhappy, because somehow in the midst of all these feelings, he was beginning to understand with jarring clarity that he really, really, really, really wanted to make Riz happy. And he was failing at that. Which destroyed his mood even more, and made him more inarticulate than ever.

“Well, maybe I’m just – I can’t believe that you would – God. I just can’t talk to you right now, Riz, I really can’t.”

“’Riz’? What? Why –”

Riz sounded hurt, and the hurt in his voice pierced directly through Fabian’s abdomen more painfully than any bladed weapon ever had, and so he impulsively hung up because he couldn’t listen to it anymore.

He stood there in silence for a moment, breathing heavily, and then threw his crystal across the room. It bounced harmlessly off the wall and clattered to the floor. (Adaine had given him a nearly-impervious case last Solstice because of how many crystals he’d destroyed by throwing them at the wall in a fit of emotion.)

And then he fully absorbed how badly that conversation had gone, and there was about a three-to-four second transition between that thought and the flow of tears that followed it.

Fabian didn’t know how long he sat sobbing on the bathroom floor before Cathilda found him – it probably wasn’t very long. She seemed to have an uncanny sense for when he was crying.

“Fabian, darling! What happened? Did someone hurt you?” She hurried into the bathroom and wrapped a soft blanket around his shoulders – one of the extra-fuzzy extra-plush numbers that she always seemed to have on hand for moments like this.

He pulled the blanket more tightly around himself and sniffled. “No, no one hurt me. I think I hurt myself.”

She immediately scanned his body for bruises and scrapes, and he waved her off. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just… There’s this guy I really, uh, care about. And I reacted badly when he told me he has a crush on someone.”

Cathilda nodded in understanding. “Ah, yes, happens to the best of us. It was your boyfriend, yes? Did he break up with you? I’m so sorry, Fabian. I know that you –”

“What? Boyfriend?” Realization struck him. “Oh, god, you also think I’m dating The Ball, don’t you?”

Cathilda looked at him, struggling to understand what was going through his head. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then realization struck him again. He stood up quickly, the blanket falling to the floor. “Oh god, I’m in love with Riz!”

Cathilda still looked confused. “I mean… yes. He’s your boyfriend, so I would think so…”

Fabian rushed to the door, swinging it open with a sudden, fiery sense of urgency. “He is not my boyfriend, actually, Cathilda. But he will be by the end of the night if I have anything to do with it. I am on a quest! To win him over from… whoever that other guy is that he likes!”

“Wait, put on pants before you go!” Cathilda called, following him into his bedroom.

He froze mid-dramatic-stride. “Oh yes, good idea.” He hurried to his closet to grab a pair of sweats.

“And a shirt!” Cathilda added.

Fabian stopped for a moment and thought about it. “I really think that being shirtless might help my case,” he mused.

Cathilda shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

&

“Magically Irreplaceable” by Fantasy Beyonce played from Riz’s tinny crystal speaker as he sat in his office, drinking the non-alcoholic scotch that his mom had given him for his birthday and going through his Fabian file. At some point he’d gathered all the documents and photos related to Fabian from his various case-organizational bulletin boards and stored them in a secret manila folder where no one, let alone Fabian himself, would ever find it. At the time he hadn’t really thought to analyze that decision very deeply but in light of recent epiphanies it suddenly made a lot of sense.

Riz sighed heavily as he gazed at a copy of Fabian’s official Aguefort Owlbears athlete photo. (He couldn’t even remember where he’d gotten it.) Fabian looked excellent in it, of course – platinum hair flashing in the sun, eyes narrowed sexily as he balanced a bloodrush ball against his hip. ‘Why did I have to pick a jock?’ Riz asked himself sadly. He wondered if he should text Ragh.

After an indeterminate amount of time spent longingly staring at photos of Fabian and regretting his choice of crush – but not really regretting, because he still thought Fabian was wonderful, but he just couldn’t figure out how everything had gone so very wrong so very quickly – he noticed a strange distortion in his music. He examined his crystal to see if something was wrong with it. Nope, “Magically Dancing On My Own” by Fantasy Robyn was still playing from the speaker with no apparent issues.

There was music coming from outside. Curious and mildly irritated, Riz walked to the window to see who was responsible for ruining his night of lovelorn moping.

After glancing down into the street below, he had to close the window and turn around before opening it and looking again. That couldn’t be right. Was he hallucinating?

It wasn’t necessarily a bad hallucination, which was why he was afraid to say anything, because he didn’t know if hallucinations dissipated when you spoke to them. As far as he could tell, Fabian was standing below his window in the glow of a nearby streetlamp, the Hangman parked in the street behind him at an angle that hinted at a hurried arrival, wearing sweatpants and no shirt, hair sticking up in about seventy-five directions, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and raising his crystal above his head in the other – the crystal was the source of the song, which Riz didn’t recognize but sounded like the sort of thing people added to playlists called ‘Oldies But Goodies’.

Fabian’s face lit up when he saw Riz and he waved his crystal back and forth. “The Ball! It’s me, Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill Seacaster!”

Riz paused. “Are you a hallucination?” he called down.

Fabian looked confused. “No!” he yelled. “I need to talk to you! Come down here!”

Riz still wasn’t sure that he wasn’t hallucinating. That sounded suspiciously like something a Riz-generated hallucination of Fabian would probably say. He decided to ask follow-up questions to buy himself some time to figure this out. “Why?” Riz called back.

“Because! Just! Get down here, The Ball!” Fabian flailed his arms around in frustration. A few rose petals fluttered to the pavement.

“Why are you doing this?” Riz yelled. If this was a hallucination, it was definitely an entertaining one.

“Because Ragh asked you out!” Fabian yelled, waving the bouquet around as he gesticulated and sending more petals flying. And then he seemed to lose some steam, body stilling as he hung his head. “And I… I realized that… I don’t want you to go out with Ragh. Because I want you to go out with…” He muttered something that Riz couldn’t hear.

Riz leaned out the window. “What? I can’t really hear you that well.” He paused. “Why didn’t you just, like, call me? And what’s with the flowers?” He paused again. “I’m kind of mad at you!” he yelled, just a notch louder than the previous statements.

Fabian looked back up at Riz, his eyes so sad that Riz almost felt bad for him. (Almost.)

“Me, Riz,” he said. “I want you to go out with me, not Ragh. And I was kind of a dick and I’m sorry. But I still think you should consider going out with me instead of him. And also,” he stood up straighter, assuming his ‘hero’ pose as he regained momentum. “I don’t want you to go out with that other guy you like! I don’t even know who he is but I think you should pick me instead. I’m the best player on the bloodrush team. Why would you date just any player on the bloodrush team when you have the option of dating the best player instead?”

It was at this point that it occurred to Riz that he was not, in fact, hallucinating, because even he couldn’t fabricate the idea of Fabian saying anything this stupid. Only the real Fabian was capable of that. Heart in his throat, Riz grabbed his coat and hurried downstairs, hearing Fabian’s crestfallen voice calling out, “Wait, where are you going?”

Riz saw Fabian’s face clear as he reached the bottom of the stairwell and opened the door. “Oh, you were just coming downstairs. I mean – I knew that already. Obviously.”

Vaulting himself up onto the handrail, Riz skipped the stairs and slid to the sidewalk parkour-style. He grinned at Fabian. “Was that cool or what?”

“It wasn’t.” Fabian said flatly. (Riz thought it was rather rich of him to act unimpressed when he was standing in the street half-dressed with a dozen roses in one hand.)

Riz stood in front of Fabian, regarding him. His expression was more humble than Riz had ever seen it, and he could see goosebumps on his bare torso and arms in the cold night air. He looked like a real person instead of a golden hero, and Riz felt more in love with him than ever.

“Aren’t you cold?” Riz asked, mentally smacking himself on the forehead for choosing that as the most important question to ask.

Fabian turned off his crystal, sliding it into his pocket and using his now-free hand to rub his other arm. “Yeah,” he mumbled. He flicked his eyes to the ground and shuffled his feet, almost resembling Gorgug in that moment. “But don’t you get it?” he asked.

Riz folded his arms. “No, can you explain it to me?”

Fabian looked up at him and pouted. Riz was proud of himself for resisting the thrall of that pout. “Fabian, why are you doing this?”

“Because this is what you do when you…”

“When you what?” Riz’s heart pounded.

“When you lo – when you like someone. I mean – yeah.”

Riz felt like he might collapse. “I think I might collapse,” he said, and Fabian rushed forward to catch him. Riz did not, in fact, collapse, but he was still now very much in Fabian’s arms, and that wasn’t accomplishing much in terms of strengthening his sense of the reality of the situation.

Riz looked up at Fabian, whose face was now very close to his face. Swallowing nervously, he asked, “You – you like me?”

Fabian nodded, fixing his gaze on Riz’s left cheekbone. His chest heaved as he sighed. “And I’m really, really sorry for being a dick to you on the phone earlier. And I’m also really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. And I lied – I don’t actually call anyone else, you’re the only person I call. And… I know you like that other guy. But like I said… I’m really good at bloodrush. And I can bench-press, like, a lot. I have an eight-foot vertical leap. And I’m also rich, like I can provide for you –”

“Fabian!” Riz interrupted, starting to laugh despite himself.

“What? What are you laughing at, The Ball? I’m trying to be earnest right now, you know –”

“I know, but you’re also being stupid –”

“Excuse me? I am not –”

“No, listen to me, Fabian! You’re the guy!”

Fabian looked deeply confused. “I… what?”

Riz started laughing so hard he rested his head against Fabian’s chest. He could hear Fabian’s heart beating rapidly. “You’re the guy, you idiot!” he managed to say. “I like you!”

There was a pause. Then Fabian said, “…Oh.” He wrapped his arms more tightly around Riz, which Riz appreciated because it really was cold out here. “Um… can we kiss then? Please?”

Riz felt like he was losing his mind. “Yes. Please, let’s kiss.”

Fabian kissed him. It was a short kiss, but Fabian was a very, very, very good kisser (at least in Riz’s personal opinion) and Riz’s insides were dissolving into captured sunlight very quickly. “Do you still think this is a hallucination?” Fabian murmured in his ear, and that. Well. That was about enough to do Riz in.

And then Fabian leaned far enough away from him to make eye contact and said, “Wait, do you like the flowers, though?”

Riz felt his face blooming into a smile. “Yes, Fabian. I really like them.”

Fabian blew out a breath, lifting the hair off Riz’s forehead slightly. “Okay, because I had Gilear get them from the florist, and if you didn’t like them I was going to enact physical violence on him, and honestly I still might –”

Riz kissed him again to shut him up. (It worked.)

&

Wiping a circle in the steamed-up locker room mirror with his towel, Fabian examined his reflection. He anxiously finger-combed his damp hair until he was sure it would dry in the shape he wanted to.

Ragh appeared on his left, clapping a meaty hand on his shoulder. “Dude, bro, I’m so sorry I asked out your boyfriend. It was totally a misunderstanding! I thought you were dating a different person.”

Fabian paused, hands still poised at his temples. “Who did you think I was – never mind. It’s fine! Don’t worry about it, Ragh.”

Riz was his boyfriend now, anyway. Fabian still couldn’t get over it. Sometimes he was walking between classes and he remembered that Riz was his boyfriend and he had to take a moment to lean against the lockers until his breathing returned to normal. It was really ruining the whole ‘coolness’ vibe he’d previously had going on.

Tonight they were going on a date to a concert at the Black Pit and then afterwards they would head back to Fabian’s mansion and probably kiss a lot. Fabian was already mentally preparing himself for the kissing, and for Riz sitting behind him on the Hangman, and for (hopefully) also kissing on the Hangman. He needed to make sure his hair looked perfect. Although he expected (hoped) that it would get messed up later (because of kissing).

He flapped his hands. “Can you give me a moment, Ragh? I need to emotionally prepare myself for kissing.”

“What do you mean?” Gorgug asked, poking his head around the corner into the shower area. “I don’t emotionally prepare myself for kissing. I just do it. The kisses, I mean.”

“That’s probably why you’re not a good kisser, Gorgug!” Fabian scoffed.

“Gorgug’s a great kisser!” Ragh said defensively.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Gorgug chimed in.

Fabian shook his head fondly at them, wrapping his towel more securely around his waist. He needed to hurry up. He had an important date to get ready for.

&

Riz still talked to Fabian on the phone fairly frequently, but their long-distance conversations had increasingly been replaced with in-person dates. He’d been using his remaining crystal data to talk to Adaine, Fig, and Kristen at least once a week, usually in a four-way conference call.

He rolled his swivel chair up close to his office window, crystal tucked between his shoulder and tilted head as he surveyed Elmville at dusk, the streetlight-studded indigo horizon fading into a lavender sky. Over the speaker, Kristen was rambling her way through a mildly not-safe-for-work description of her last date with Tracker, while Fig periodically interrupted to ask lewd questions, always immediately followed by Adaine begging her to shut up.

He loved his friends. He loved hearing their voices. And he loved his boyfriend. (And planned on eventually telling him that.)

Even though the shadowy office was empty except for him, he felt himself smiling. Life had been pretty good to him lately.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day <3


End file.
